


The More Things Change

by ABrighterDarkness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Halloween, Relationship Firsts, Traditions, new traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: Neither of them had very many good memories surrounding the holiday but both had traditions and observances that made the otherwise unpleasant day a bit better.





	The More Things Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts).

> Written for Articcat621 as a part of Marvelously Magical FanFiction's Something Wicked fest.  
Prompt: It's their first Halloween together, and they're blending both magical and muggle traditions.
> 
> For reference, this story falls somewhere after Captian America: The Winter Soldier. It'll make sense why ;)
> 
> Thank you to NotSoSirius92 for the Beta read!

Steve couldn’t deny that he missed this little house. Even when he was in New York, surrounded by the best of everything money could buy and especially when a mission required roughing it or camping out in a quinjet for days or weeks on end. Manhattan. Brooklyn. DC. All were home in some manner. 

But none of it felt the same as this little piece of his heart outside of London that he didn’t get to return to nearly as often as he would like.

The house itself was quaint and unassuming. A small, two story cottage that looked like something out of a storybook with gray stonework and clean white shutters and trim. Large picture windows were positioned on either side of the slate-gray front door. Overall the home was charming, sure.

But that wasn’t why Steve missed it.

A chill chased goosebumps through his body as the house identified him as his hand closed around the doorknob. Only when the chill was soothed by a rush of welcoming warmth did he turn the knob and push into the house.

Unlike the normalcy of the house’s exterior, the interior was something else entirely. 

From his place by the door, he could see the entire of the much-larger-than-should-be, open concept main floor. He could see a long, butcher block dining set with an elegant black runner that had what looked to be spider webs stitched into it on the far end. A beautiful centerpiece with darkly colored flowers that Steve couldn’t begin to name without borrowing one of Hermione’s magical books was positioned in the middle of the table, flanked by alternating black and orange pillar candles. Glass bowls of what looked to be candy corn were positioned on each end of the line of candles and decorations. 

The spacious kitchen--the smells coming from which made his stomach instantly ravenous--opened at the left side of the dining room, differentiated only by the hardwood changing to slate tile. Was that one of Hermione’s cauldron’s on the kitchen island? That aside, the kitchen seemed to be mostly unaffected by the decor that seeped into every other space in the house. He could see the stairwell that led up to the bedrooms and the innocuous door just to the left of the stairs that he knew led into the basement where Hermione kept her more volatile books and projects. The banister for the stairs was decorated with wide, braided black and orange ribbon and interesting handmade ceramic baubles. The basement door was, ironically, wrapped in caution tape. 

An overstuffed deep maroon sofa and matching armchairs encircled the merrily crackling fireplace. A very familiar ball of ginger fluff growled in irritation at being awoken from his nap from his place on the armchair nearest the door.

Crookshanks huffed and hid his flat face in his front paws and pointedly ignored the new arrival.

Steve spotted a small halloween town with actual moving pieces on the mantle. He remembered Hermione’s fondness for  _ The Nightmare Before Christmas _ and identified the moving pieces as very similar to what he remembered of the film. She had attached several similarly themed stockings to the mantle. Steve wasn’t quite sure that’s how that worked, not that he would vocalize as much.

The ceilings were vaulted, much higher than the home’s exterior would have suggested and a couple feet above his head, several dozen black candles floated. He noted curiously that none of them seemed to drip wax onto the floor. What his ma wouldn’t have given to be able to utilize something like that. 

Hermione had, apparently, jumped into decorating with all the enthusiasm that she approached everything. With everything she had. The thought drew a smile.

Unfortunately, despite being able to see the entirety of the house’s main level, he could not see the beautiful, riotous curls that he had hoped to see welcome him. Steve kicked his shoes off and left them by the door before moving to drop his duffle bag onto the couch. “Hermione?” he called, earning a narrow eyed glare from the cat.

“Out back!” called the familiar feminine voice from the cracked open french doors on the opposite end of the dining room. Steve noted then that the usual ivory sheer curtains had been traded out for black sheers for the occasion. He quickly maneuvered through the house and stepped sock-footed onto the stone patio at the back of the house and immediately gaped.

He watched in awe as one of the absolute largest pumpkins he had ever seen hovered in the air before slowly moving to settle into position among six equally large pumpkins in a semi-circle around the patio. As soon as the pumpkin settled, Steve felt the impact of the familiar small frame impacting and immediately wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“You made it,” she murmured against his chest, arms locked snuggly around his waist. 

“Missed you,” Steve said quietly against those crazy curls he had been missing so very much.

“Missed you too,” Hermione answered, he could feel her smile against his chest. She tilted her head back to look up to him and he responded with a gentle kiss. 

“So these are Hagrid’s pumpkins that you’ve told me so much about?”

“Aren’t they brilliant?” She asked excitedly. “I remember the first time I saw them, my first year. I had never seen anything like them. I owe him a bit of help with the thestral herd in the forest now, in exchange but I think it’s worth it. Do you think they’ll like them?”

“I think they’ll love them,” he assured her.

%%%

They had talked about it roughly a month prior. Nearing their first anniversary together, Halloween would be the last ‘first’ holiday to experience as a couple. While Steve understood the day to be more of a children’s day to many, it was clearly of importance to Hermione’s culture, something he was still--very slowly--being introduced to.

_ “I remember Ma making me a costume when I was little but the older I got Halloween was usually spent patching me up from one fight or another. Her or Bucky. Folks seemed to use the day to excuse poor behaviour even more than usual. Once I was pulled from the ice, there always seemed to be one bad guy or another making use of the day to excuse their actions. _ ”

_ “My parents were dentists so Halloween wasn’t really that much fun for me as a small child. My first truly memorable Halloween was at Hogwarts and...well...from twelve years old on it was always  _ memorable  _ but not for  _ good _ reasons. Something bad always happened.” _

And so they planned. Neither of them had very many good memories surrounding the holiday but both had traditions and observances that made the otherwise unpleasant day a bit better. Not only was Hermione determined to pull off hosting a feast worthy of her school years and Molly Weasley--Steve wasn’t sure of her standards of measurements having not attended Hogwarts and had yet to meet Molly Weasley but he assumed they were high--but they were also attempting to integrate their lives as they hadn’t yet done before.

The Avengers would be descending on her home in approximately three hours. Her friends would be arriving shortly thereafter. 

To say that Steve was nervous was an understatement considering that, after almost a year, he would essentially be meeting Hermione’s family and she his for what they hoped would be the start of new traditions. 

%%%

Awkward. Initially it was very awkward.

Hermione and Steve hovered among their respective groups. From Hermione’s previous descriptions, he could identify Harry Potter and those that were Weasleys. George, Ron, and Ginny if he was placing them correctly but the tiny blonde studying the empty corner of dining room intently, he couldn’t place for the life of him. Eventually, Hermione slipped across the room to drag him over to meet her friends and, unsurprisingly, it’s Tony that breaks the ice between the two groups.

“So you’re the mystery woman that the Capsicle keeps disappearing on us for,” Tony said in lieu of an actual greeting. 

Steve grimaced at the nickname but there was an odd glint in Hermione’s eyes when she smirked and responded, “So you’re the Tin Man that finally found his heart. Steve’s warned me about you.”

Steve got that reference.

“Tony Stark,” Tony reached a hand out towards her, “since the good Captain seems too entranced to do introductions, not that I can blame him.”

“Hermione Granger,” she grinned, shaking Tony’s hand politely before glancing over her shoulder towards the kitchen, eyes narrowed. “Potter and Weasleys! Get your hands off of my food and get over here and pretend to be polite!”

“Yes mum,” George called back cheekily.

“Steve, darling, Tony,” Hermione smiled warmly. “Harry Potter. George, Ron, and Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood. My nearest and dearest. Luna, love, would you mind helping me set up? I don’t trust this lot not to descend like locusts as soon as the food is out of the oven.”

“Oi!”

“I resemble that remark.”

“Hey!” Harry frowned, his expression very near a pout. Hermione just stared blankly at the three wizards, brow arched and waited. As expected, Harry cracked first, flushing deeply and breaking eye contact before making excuses to make introductions. Ron sputtered when Harry’s hand wrapped around his upper arm and dragged him along. 

Hermione shifted her gaze to the two remaining Weasleys. Ginny just arched her brow and smirked, “Doesn’t work on me, ‘Mione.” Without another word she drifted off, Steve noticed absently that she had joined where Harry and Ron seemed to have pulled Sam into conversation. Honestly, he had been surprised at Sam’s eager acceptance of the invitation. Pleased, but surprised.

“George.” 

“Hermione.”

Something that Steve couldn’t keep up with passed between the pair and George raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture, “I’ll play nice, ‘Mione...mostly.” Something twisted slightly in the man’s face and one shoulder shifted in a half shrug, “But…”

Hermione’s glare softened just slightly and she kissed his cheek before urging him to go and enjoy himself.

“That was slightly terrifying,” Tony remarked dryly, clapping Steve firmly on the shoulder. “Have fun with that glare Cap.”

“I like her,” Natasha smirked from Steve’s opposite side, apparently having appeared while he was distracted.

“You would Itsy Bitsy,” Tony snarked.

“There’s drinks and small bits to munch on until dinner. Steve or one of that lot can show you where,” Hermione gestured idly towards her friends. She popped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “I’ve got to check on food and get everything set up. Luna?”

“I’ll help,” Natasha volunteered. Hermione blinked in surprise but smiled warmly in welcome. 

Steve found himself in an interesting position to watch Natasha’s normally hyper-controlled expression drop in awe and Tony drop into complete silence for a very brief moment when the kitchen suddenly came to life. Dishes soaring through the air to settle into proper placement at the table, supplies moving from counter to island, and food moving from the oven and refrigerator to settle on the counters.

The open expression lasted until the tiny blonde--Luna--pressed a wine glass into Natasha’s hands and led the glass to her lips to encourage a small drink. Natasha gave the other woman a look of muted surprise before locking her expression back down to her normal level. Luna just smiled knowingly before excusing herself to transfer the centerpiece and line of candles--without once touching them--from table to an empty ledge near the french doors. 

“Cap.” Tony managed finally.

“I know, Tony,” Steve could only grin smugly.

Despite having been with Hermione for nearly a year and aware of Magic for the past six or so months, it still amazed him to watch. His thoughts on the matter were distracted by a familiar growling flash of light that rattled the house. Instantly, five of the six Magicals were at Luna’s side by the door, wands in hand and postures defensive. 

“Hermione,” he quickly moved forward and rested hands on her shoulders to offer calm. “That’ll just be Thor.” No sooner had the words left his mouth did the man in question become visible in a patch of scorched earth in the center of the semi-circle of enormous pumpkins.

“Bloody witch has been holding out,” he heard Ginny Weasley mutter appreciatively under her breath. Steve bit his cheek to keep from reacting to the comment that was obviously not meant to be overheard and instead used his hold on Hermione’s shoulders to shift her gently out of the way. He quickly stepped out to greet his teammate.

“We weren’t sure you would make it,” he grinned, extending his hand to clasp forearms in greeting.

“The invitation was a welcome surprise,” Thor answered pleasantly. “I would not have missed it.”

“Thor, this is Hermione,” Steve extended his hand again, this time to the witch in question. When Hermione shook his hand, Thor’s eyes narrowed in concentration before clearing with a cheery smile.

“Midgard Magic,” He grinned. “You’ve chosen your companion well, Captain Rogers.”

“I like to think she chose well,” Steve countered as Hermione smirked and tucked herself under his arm and against his side. He heard Sam’s muttered “Nice save.” He and Hermione guided Thor into the house and conducted introductions with her friends. From the corner of his eye, he saw a shimmering movement and his hyper-vigilant attention was immediately drawn to the corner of the room that had previously been comparatively empty before but...

There was something in the dining room that he hadn’t noticed before. The shy, almost timid smile that Hermione sent him told him that he  _ couldn’t _ have noticed it before, enhanced senses or no. He moved closer to study the display, quickly forgetting the presence of Thor and the rest of the Avengers.

A small, round table in the corner with an empty chair, dressed with a pristine white table cloth set with a single place setting. A lemon quarter and salt was placed on the plate under an overturned glass. He recognized the Army green cover,  _ his era _ Army green dress cover, placed just above the place setting. In the very center of the small table, beyond the setting and the cover was a simple white pillar sharing space with a single red rose in a vase wrapped with a red silk ribbon..

Steve blinked back unexpected emotion. 

“I researched,” Hermione spoke, quiet with a hint of nervousness. “I know this tradition post-dates what you knew, that you would have been...gone...when this came into place but...I thought you might appreciate it.“

_ The Winter Soldier. _

_ Bucky. _

_ Who knows who else Hydra took... _

He pulled her into a tight hug, burrowing his face into her beautiful, riotous curls to hide the overwhelming emotion. It may have been past his original time but...but he knew what it meant to include this small table on their celebration. Steve felt a firm pat on his shoulder and instinctively knew that it came from Sam.

“Sam,” Hermione called over his shoulder. “Would you like to place another seat at the table?”

Steve pulled his face from Hermione’s hair in time to see Sam’s surprised, pained reaction. “I don’t have…”

Hermione withdrew from Steve’s warm embrace and pulled Sam into a close hug, “I know. Steve...He told me a bit about you. You’re dear to him and therefore to me. Do you want to place another setting, darling?”

Steve watched his friend’s arms tighten around his witch’s shoulders and a nod against the side of her head. Without moving from her affectionate hold, Hermione glanced to the side, “Gin? Luna?”

The ginger and blonde, exceedingly carefully, expanded the small table. Another place setting with the plate, glass, lemon, and salt positioned itself directly across from the Army place setting. Sam stiffened but stood upright and turned to face Luna who held the Air Force dress cover balanced carefully on her palms. Sam exhaled heavily and accepted it, placing it carefully at the head of the second place setting.

Hermione shifted, meeting George’s eyes. “Harry. George, Ron, Gin? You’ll do the honors?”

Steve recalled the long, dark story of this groups’ childhood as he stood beside Sam and the rest of the Avengers. He watched Harry settled a photo album onto a second, smaller table. Ginny returned from the kitchen with a plate holding a little bit of everything Hermione had made for the dinner. Ron left a tumbler of a golden colored liquid--Firewhiskey?--near the top of the plate. George seemed to shoot Hermione a sheepish look before placing a small, bright orange box next to the photo album but Hermione just smiled sweetly and carefully guided one of the floating candles to settle in the center of the table.

“Well,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This definitely beats going to a Deathday party.”

“Did--Did you seriously just say  _ Deathday _ party?” Tony sputtered.

“Ah, yeah,” Harry said, sharing a grimace with Ron and Hermione.

“Tell me more,” the genius insisted.

“ _ After _ dinner, if you please,” Hermione interjected insistently. “If you’re hungry I suggest you get your plates before Steve or the gingers leave us with crumbs.”

“Hey!” Steve protested weakly. But the awkwardness was officially broken. Plate full, Steve settled beside Hermione and studied the busy table. It was loud but everyone was laughing and enjoying the food and company. The nerves from earlier were long gone, Steve let himself sink into the feeling. 

Just as dessert was being polished off the evening was interrupted.

Tony’s phone went off first. Nat’s and his own came almost immediately after. Steve noticed that Harry darted to the fireplace when the fire turned green--there was a name for that, but he couldn’t recall it at the moment--with Hermione and Ron hot at his heels.

It looked like they were sharing one long standing tradition after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering about the table set for Steve and Sam, it's called the Missing Man table. It's a military tradition meant to honor the fallen, missing, and imprissoned service members that originated during the Vietnam war when POW/MIA concerns heightened. Most military dining establishments have a permenant table and are also often present during military dining ceremonies and service balls. The Table was one aspect that I immediately wanted to include with this story when I began writing for the prompt!


End file.
